


A different kind of challenge

by orangedice



Series: those in-between moments [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, but i'm totally okay with that because the writers did a great job, if the writers kill him i swear to god, not canon compliant after 7x11, post-7x09, pre-7x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25564249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangedice/pseuds/orangedice
Summary: Daisy struggles with the aftermath of the time loop, though she doesn't let that stop her from running full-tilt at the problem. Daniel contemplates his place with the team and in the universe at large, with the help of May, Coulson, and of course, Daisy.Post-7x09 before 7x10.
Relationships: Melinda May & Daniel Sousa, Phil Coulson & Daniel Sousa, Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa
Series: those in-between moments [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868149
Comments: 18
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since my first Dousy/Daisysous fic leaned towards the angst, I tried to go a bit more lighthearted this time around. And I didn't realize how much I needed some Sousa-and-any-other-team-member scenes until they just vomited out onto the page, so to anybody else who needed those moments, I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.
> 
> Bonus: I rewatched the scene where [Daisy shoots Ward](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UO3-DV6bs_k), for "research purposes", and (guns are bad y'all) damn, it's still very satisfying years later.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy punches her way through her feelings and her past, but she gets the answer she's wanted when Daniel interrupts. (Hint: it's a kiss.)

Daisy clenched her fists, got into position, stared down the punching bag.

They were safe. The whole team was safe again, fleeting though it felt.

She threw some practice jabs, got used to her footing, tried again; the bag barely swung at the effort.

The whole team was safe again, and they were each taking quiet moments alone this morning as they came to terms with time travel and paradoxes and loops and Enoch. They mourned. Mourned a death that saved them all. Mourned deaths from years past. Mourned deaths that are yet to come. And Daisy filled her need to punch her way through her loneliness and her fears; the strange pit in her stomach about the inevitability of seeing Jiaying, her own mother, her future enemy, a painful reminder; and of course, under it all, Sousa--Daniel--

It was a different kind of challenge, she thought. The way he looked at her. It should feel like a threat, though it felt like anything but.

He wasn't like Deke, who, she was convinced, only thought he loved her, and whose self-service sabotaged any meaningful friendship he hoped to create.

Nor could anyone ever compare to Lincoln, whose kind of love could only strike once (and leave her just as devastated).

Her throws grew stronger; the bag swung, rhythmic, mesmerizing.

Her thoughts flash to the aftermath of Lincoln's death, to Robbie, his pain so similar to her own. She had been so sure he would give her what she wanted--she had dared him to give her what she wanted--but instead, Ghost Rider had simply walked away.

And Ward, she thought with a snarl, always belittling her, a bare beginner. "Can't even tell the difference between the safety and the mag release," he used to say, condescension masked as teasing.

She continued her assault against the bag as her thoughts ran away from her, and feeling bolder and a bit surlier now, started sending tremors with each hit.

Even now, remembering those early days with Ward raised the hairs on the back of her neck, and she was unable to release her preternatural hatred for that man. He was an easy target. She started circling the bag, punctuating every thought with another body-shaking hit of her fist. He had certainly stopped belittling her after she shot 4 rounds into his back, that lying sack of--

"Looks like you're working something out," Sousa said, coming into view as she finished her turn around the bag. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her.

Daisy lowered her hands, a little stunned, her heart having leapt into her throat. "How long have you been creeping?" she asked, trying very hard to be casual. She pat the bag to stop its swing and walked towards him--well, the bench really, which was frankly a little too close to the door, to him, for her current comfort.

He looked a little embarrassed and stood a little straighter, coming off the frame. "Oh, sorry--"

She waved a hand at him, not needing the apology. She sat down. "No, it's fine. That's what I get for keeping my back to the door for so long," she said. She took a large swig from her water. Her heart hammered in her chest still, but she tilted her head at him, pursed her lips in a quick appraisal. He was dressed down for once, with a SHIELD t-shirt and track pants. "You here to train? I can wipe the bag down for you in a minute."

"Wipe it down? You might need to replace it first," he chuckled. "It's coming apart at the seams at this point."

He stepped into the room, into the light. She noticed a bit too clearly the light gray at his temples; the ever-so-slight smile he always seemed to have when he looked at her (when it wasn't a frown and a furrowed brow, anyway); the way that his t-shirt clung to his arms a little too tightly, making her wonder if he'd even be able to exercise comfortably in it, not that she was totally imagining whether his muscles would ripple under there; or how, frustrated with the limited range of motion, he'd take his shirt off and--

She looked down at her hands which worried at the tip of her water bottle, twisting it open, closed, open, and closed again. Daniel always seemed to find her when her mind was in turmoil, and tonight seemed no exception.

It was a different kind of challenge, she thought. The way he looked at her. As if he reveled at all the goodness in the universe when he was in her presence. But it wasn't that he expected her to be better than she really was, it was the implicit trust that she already was and will continue to be. She thought it should feel like a threat to her sense of self, but he made her feel like she was more herself in ways she never thought possible.

A younger Daisy might have felt it stifling, his regard for her a pedestal where she would've felt caged. Now it felt like--

a little bit of hope, a little bit of her own belief in herself burgeoning, maybe, turning into acceptance, into love, maybe, just maybe, to battle the guilt, the old pain--

"You really are working something out, huh?" he said at her silence. "Dr. Simmons recommended I practice with the new leg," he said and patted the prosthetic. "But that can wait, if you want to tell me what's on your mind?" He came closer and dropped himself down on the bench next to her. He leaned, elbows on his knees--mirroring her posture, she almost blushed at the realization--face turned towards her.

The closeness should have scared her, but--

"Can I ask you something?" she said. She leaned back into the bench, dropped the bottle on the other side of her. "Well, I asked you already, before. During the time loop." There was that little furrow of his brow again. (She couldn't help but smile at that, a little lift at the corner of her mouth. And his eyes flitted down to her lips before coming back up.) She took a deep breath. "But I want to hear it from you, now, now that there isn't some weird..." She waved a hand around her. What had Simmons said? "Timey wimey stuff happening."

"Of course," he said, nodding.

Daisy gazed a moment. The overhead light brought out the cut of his face, the concerned brow, the lines of his lips--

She sat up a little straighter, not sure how to start. She opened her mouth, closed it, then finally, deciding on a tried and true method, started with the preamble--

"Why do you care?" she asked. And before he could answer that: "Every time I ask you for help, you say yes."

\--in her mind so frequently repeated--

"Even when I don't ask, you're... here."

\--and rehearsed and replayed--

"Offering to help. Offering to listen."

\--her part so well-memorized--

"Why?" she asked.

Could she really expect him to say what she'd hoped he would say?

Daniel rocked back a little bit. "You asked me that before?" She nodded. "Did you... like the answer?" he asked.

She gave him a look. _I'm not going to tell you that yet._ "Be honest," she said.

He blinked, disappearing for a moment into his own past, his own mistakes. Remembering. Learning that he could never tie down a woman so willing to fight for herself, for her friends, for something even bigger than them. And he laughed, too, though he kept it to himself, that Daisy--so independent, so unique--wouldn't like this next bit, but:

"I know your type." He paused, but Daisy remained silent, watching his face, almost unbelieving. "I've known people like you. Some of my favorite people are people like you." He smiled. His face opened up a little more. People like Daisy didn't need to be tied down by people like him. "Focused on the greater good even at your own expense. Wanting your friends to think you like being alone, even though you always end up back with them." He wouldn't mind being one of those friends, to give her someone to fight for. "Protecting your friends, no matter the cost, orders be damned."

"Anybody would protect the ones they love," she protested.

"Yeah, but you'll run full-tilt at whatever enemy or problem threatening you or your friends until you either solve it or slam headlong into a brick wall."

Daisy laughed at that. But then-- _Enoch..._ The memory brought a shuddering breath out of her. Not because she had been slammed into the lab wall loop after loop, but because of the end, the end of a good friend, a stalwart teammate... She realized Daniel's expression had changed to one of concern.

"I'm fine," she said. "Time loops are a hell of a thing."

"Fortunately, I can't imagine it being more than a once in a lifetime experience," he said.

"One day we'll tell you how Deke joined the team," she said, dryly. She shook her head, not wanting to revisit that particular time loop right now. "So I... I like to run into walls. So what? Why do you care?" she asked.

It took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts again. Her breath hitched as she waited, hoped. His eyes looked steadily into her own, and she wasn't sure what she had been thinking even trying to have this conversation again. But she so desperately wanted to hear those dearly coveted words, the ones that repeated over and over in her head since they jumped out of the Time Storm: "Because someone should be there to pick you back up."

Daisy let out a sigh she didn't know she had in her. Even for a second time, his words filled her with something that she hadn't been sure she'd ever be able to feel again. Was she ready? Did it matter if she was? "And you want to be that someone?" she whispered.

Daniel didn't know quite what was going on in Daisy's head, nor did he know what any of this had to do with what had been on her mind when he first sighted her--beautiful, fierce Daisy pounding away at the exercise bag, but he continued on: "No, not for everyone." He smiled, though he was pretty sure that she knew that already. "It helps if they're fun to be around." The sides of his eyes crinkled. "And if they say what they mean and if they have that superpower where they can destroy unsuspecting punching bags--"

"That punching bag deserved it," she said. Something had changed in her demeanor--the fidgeting hands stilled and she scooted very slightly closer, almost imperceptibly so, but he was always so aware of her presence at all times, from the little quirks of her lips to the power she emanated as she walked into every room--

"I'm sure it did," he replied, before he could get completely lost in--

Her eyes: always penetrating, taking in every little detail, examining every part of his face, until finally, finally--

Her lips pressed up against his own stunned ones--he hadn't dared hope for this in the middle of his unreal journey from chief of SHIELD to agent? tagalong?--and he didn't want it to stop, because if it stopped it'd really mean that he was gone, out-of-time, but finally here, finally home, finally right where he wanted to be--

Daisy pulled back for a second, giving him a chance to back away, but no, he didn't need that distance, he just needed her lips again--hungry for contact, unable to keep away for long--

soft lips meeting equally eager ones,--

her hand now on his chest feeling for his heartbeat, his own hand on her knee, longing to travel further but content right where it was.

His heart, almost too conscious of it beating under her warm hand,--

those lips, those hands, on his own lips, on his own hands--all he wanted--

the need to press her even closer to him, so he could breathe her in--

He hadn't felt this much care or hope in so long, hadn't connected with anybody willing to take a chance with him, willing to leap--

breathless--she'd literally taken his breath away--

They pulled away, chests heaving to catch their breaths. His eyes, darkened, almost wild, drank in every last part of her face that he could, focusing in on her lips, ready to be kissed again, close enough that he could feel her warm breath as she asked, "Is that full-tilt enough for you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel learns to become more comfortable with his new prosthetic with the help of May and receives much needed wisdom and resolve from Coulson. Oh, and he and Daisy kiss again, duh.

It was a different sort of challenge, Daniel thought. To believe so deeply in a woman that needed nobody to believe in her.

After that too short of a moment, she had completely pulled away and stood, though she grabbed his hand, caressed his knuckles as if she couldn't bear to be apart. "I should probably clean up so you can do what you came here to do," she had said, nodding at his leg. "But..." ( _Oh please don't have second thoughts now,_ he thought, his hope almost disintegrating.) "Let's talk again later?" Daisy had asked. "Maybe in my room, if you're okay with that?" she had said.

His mouth had gaped slightly open and he had gulped--mouth suddenly dry, he hadn't realize he was a gulper, a fish out of water, flailing--and nodded. "It would be my pleasure," and had smiled and squeezed her hand, and she had returned the gesture.

For now, achingly alone in the sparsely dressed training area, Daniel stretched as Dr. Simmons had instructed him, and gently dug his knuckles into some of the knots he could reach along his back, also as instructed.

"How can something so well-made, lifelike even, be causing me pain somewhere else on my body?" he had asked the doctor. He almost missed his cane, though he didn't want to seem ungrateful.

"It would take anybody time to acclimate to a new prosthetic, Agent Sousa," she had replied, not unkindly. Then, with a gleam in her eye, she had said, "I doubt sitting slumped over in that chair all night helped."

He had no regrets.

He started his usual solo sparring routine, slower than usual, mindful of every pinch he felt in his back as he jabbed the air, of every step pulling at something deep in his hip.

As he started his second set, he saw somebody enter the room out of the corner of his eye. They stood quietly inside the entrance, simply watching. His chest tightened for a moment, hoping it was Daisy again, but he finished his set before giving in and turning towards the door.

"You're being too careful," May said.

"Ah," Sousa replied. He gave a brief nod to the pilot, hoping he had schooled his expression fast enough to hide the disappointment. "On purpose, actually. Just trying to get used to this thing," he said.

She shook her head. "No. You have to move as if your leg is already a part of you. Being careful just means you're thinking too much," she said as she tapped her temple. "Your body doesn't need to think. It needs to learn from its own movements."

She charged at him. He sprang back as she reached him, arm up to block, then turned as she followed his movements. He barely dodged one punch before he had to duck another. God, she was fast. And he could see where Daisy got her fighting style from; the realization sharpened his focus, not that May gave him much time to think. She continued at him, forcing him on the defensive, before finally, muscles quivering, he had to stop, palms up in surrender. May, mercifully, immediately, relaxed and regarded him silently as he caught his breath. He had a feeling that even lasting that long meant she was taking it easy on him, assessing him. And to be quite honest with himself, he was sure she could have landed several hits if she had wanted. "See?" she said. "Much better, more natural."

"Well, it certainly felt different," he said. Still winded, he took a lap around the room to cool down and collect his thoughts, but he had to admit, about halfway around, that he had forgotten to think about his limp--or lack thereof. Suddenly self-conscious, he looked up to find May still watching him.

"Were you an instructor?" he asked, curious, when he returned to her. "You know, before this?"

She nodded. "Off and on."

"You must have trained Daisy. She's amazing," he said. "I watched her beat the stuffing out of that thing earlier." He nodded at the exercise bag.

At that, May grinned, pride effusing her face. "Yes, yes, she is," she said, before she schooled her expression to something more neutral. He remembered then, about her empathic ability. He felt sorry for forcing anything on her, even unintentionally, but before he could speak, May raised a hand to stop him. "Don't be embarrassed. Please. I had to deal with enough of that at Afterlife. Besides," she paused. "It was nice to feel proud of her again," she said.

He nodded in understanding. But for both their sakes--maybe more for his own--he decided he'd try to keep his feelings in check around her.

"I'll leave you to it," she said, after a few moments. "But I'd like to see you tomorrow for some Tai Chi, 0500 hours, if you're up for it." Her tone said, _You better be up for it._

Trying not to be impolite, he cleared his throat. "What exactly is Tai Chi?" he asked.

"Come find out," she replied. She searched his face. "Have Daisy wake you up," she said. "If you want to better understand your body's movements, you'll come." Then before he knew it, she was gone.

He waited a minute before he let out a breath. _The women of the 21st century might literally be the death of me,_ he thought. _Though I guess, technically, they already have been._

* * *

They hadn't actually set a time to talk, him and Daisy, so for now he paced. Daisy seemed to be in a serious discussion with Mack and Simmons; May listened, observed; Deke hovered though he pretended to be working on something else. Daniel realized he had been hovering as well, though he tried not to stare too intensely at Daisy, and failing that, had left the room.

So for now, he paced, limp forgotten while he was deep in his thoughts. He wasn't sure at what point he had found himself in the LMD Lab in front of the charging Coulson--the hundred something timeloops hadn't counted for real time in the pod. Daniel didn't want to disturb him, but well, Coulson seemed to respect him, hadn't seemed so flippant about Daniel being a man out of his element, and maybe some part of him thought Coulson would have better insight into the appropriateness of a man from 1955 kissing a woman from, when, exactly?

Plus, he didn't want to jeopardize the team or cross any lines, and it wasn't until right as he pressed the button to wake Coulson that he remembered Daisy's comment calling the LMD _Dad_ as he led them down to the speakeasy, and Daniel realized he might have already made a mistake.

Agent Coulson lifted his head. "Agent Sousa. What's the crisis?"

"Daisy and I kissed," Daniel said, quickly, before he could really stop himself.

"Huh. I don't know if that qualifies as a crisis," Coulson said. "But... it makes me happy that she told you."

Daniel stopped. "Wait, told me what?" he asked.

"Oh. Nevermind. Still, not sure why you had to interrupt my beauty sleep," Coulson said. "I didn't take you for the nervous type. And also, kind of weird that you're coming to a robot for romantic advice, if I'm quite honest."

Coulson hadn't taken Agent Sousa for a blusher either, and found this infinitely more fun than running Lincoln through his paces.

"I was engaged once," Sousa said. "Ran away from one love and straight into another, but she saw right through me and called it off." He laughed. He continued to pace, hands on his hips. This didn't matter. This shouldn't matter. He hadn't come here to talk about this. "I threw myself into my work. To the SSR. To SHIELD. And for what? To be snatched right out again, dropped into another war I didn't start, with a team that sometimes seems to know so much yet so little at the same time," he said. Then, wryly, "I'm talking about this team, by the way," Sousa said.

"I figured that," Coulson nodded, amused.

"And I suppose," Sousa continued, deep breath in, out. "I suppose, I'm a little disappointed that whatever advanced future you're from still hasn't destroyed HYDRA or, or stopped war, or--"

"Or stopped being human?" Coulson said.

Sousa stopped pacing and turned to look at Coulson. "Right. Stopped being human. Of course." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have woken you up. Like you said, this isn't a crisis."

"No, you're just a man, trying to figure out your place in the universe. I get it."

Sousa seemed to deflate. "I knew the world moved fast. I was in SHIELD! State-of-the-art. Beyond state-of-the-art. Cutting edge. But I didn't think I'd become obsolete so fast." He leaned against the table, fully facing Coulson now. He crossed his arms. "Don't get me wrong. I'll fight. I'm not afraid of that. These Chronicoms need to be stopped, and damned if I'm not going to be a part of that."

"But?" Coulson asked.

"But." Sousa tilted his head, scratched at his temple. He stayed silent for a long moment. "What are we fighting for? What place does family, or love, have in times of war? I let love slip away because of duty and service. And I have to wonder, is there ever time for love or for anything else besides running and fighting?"

And that fear, finally spoken out loud, settled into his chest. The entire planet was at stake and he was just an insignificant part of it, distracted and hoping for a few moments alone with a _superhero_. And Daisy--hell, all of them--deserved moments of happiness. They deserved happiness, between battles, between deaths and mourning and tragedy, but could they actually afford to waste that time? Even now, Daisy was meeting with the rest of her team, looking for the next solution to their problem.

"Okay," Coulson said to break the sudden silence. So maybe this conversation wouldn't be all fun. "I thought maybe you were here to ask for my blessing--which you have, by the way, not that it matters--but we can talk about this." He stepped down from his charging dais. "Back when I was really me," Coulson said, while waving at the "futuristic sleeping pod" behind him. "I was in love with someone too. A few different someones. But the last one, the one that mattered in the end, she was a... teammate." Sousa thought Coulson almost looked wistful.

"It was a real will-they won't-they thing for awhile," he said. "But the big work of saving the world never seemed to break long enough, so we just kept dancing around the issue. Until we saved the world, again. And she found out I was dying. Again. But for real this time.

"It wasn't until those last moments when we were finally spending time together, that I realized that yes, I was happy now, but we could have had so much more time. We could have made time. Between all of the battles we fought. Between all the deaths we had seen--sometimes even caused. Between all the tragedy and the mourning. We could have made those moments of happiness with each other. We could have added a little bit more joy into the world.

"It wasn't until I was dying, the real me, that I understood how important it was to spend that time to love."

Sousa nodded, took it all in. And finally, he stood and put his hand out. "Thank you, Agent Coulson."

Bemused, Coulson shook his hand. "You're welcome?"

And off Sousa went, a man on a mission. To Daisy, Coulson assumed.

He sighed, grabbed his remote, and stepped back into his dais, where yes, he did dream of electric sheep, and the moments he never had.

* * *

This was a different sort of challenge, he thought. Fighting the anticipation. But he didn't want to fight it anymore.

Sousa entered the command room with one purpose, and one purpose only. May had already turned to look at him, feeling him coming a (figurative) mile away. She smirked, her face still turned away from everyone else. But he didn't notice. He only had eyes for Daisy, who, as he approached, exclaimed, "Daniel--uh, Sousa--"

And Mack, ever welcoming: "Sousa, we were just discussing Sybil's possible location--"

"Agent Johnson, can I borrow you for a moment please?" Daniel asked. He gestured toward the door.

"Uh, sure, but what's wrong? What's this about?" She followed him down the hall. Once they were out of sight and earshot, he turned, grabbed her hands, and kissed her.

"Daniel!" she whispered, shocked. "What--"

"I didn't want to wait any longer," he said.

"Ah, well--" she started, but then thought better of it. She stepped closer, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him in even closer. Their kiss this time was even deeper than the one they had shared this morning. His hands fell to her hips, and their bodies were pressed so close together that they almost felt like one. Their tentative tongues explored each other until Daisy, without thinking, took a gentle nip at his bottom lip, and a dark moan erupted from his mouth.

She just had to push him against the wall now, lips still joined together, her hands traveling, caressing his neck, moving down his chest. She pulled away, grabbed the folds of his blue shirt--he had changed again--and pushed him back against the wall when his lips tried to follow her--she wanted to attack his neck now, find his pulse points, and mark him.

Before she could do so, Daniel stopped her. She started to protest, but he was grinning, so she supposed she could let him explain himself. "I, uh, honestly just wanted to give you a quick break before I joined you in the command center," he said, almost apologetically. "And to tell you how much I'm looking forward to our talk later."

Daisy laughed. "Well, all right," she said. She stepped back, but her hands slid up his chest, down his arms, until she intertwined her fingers with his. "Thank you for the morale boost," she said. "And don't worry, I'm looking forward to our talk later too."

"Honestly, I was worried you didn't mean it," he said.

"Of course I meant it," she said. She started back towards the group, still holding his hand. He had to follow. "Come on. Let's get through the mission briefing as quickly as possible then."

Before rounding the last corner, Daisy stopped. She squeezed her hand. "We'll just have to keep our hands off each other for a little while longer," she said.

And that was going to be quite the challenge, for both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I had originally said there'll be a 3rd chapter to this, but I've decided to leave this story standalone, partly to keep its teen rating. Plus I think it works well on its own and anything more steamy can come in a separate, 2nd part as a series!
> 
> I plan on getting that second part up soon because I definitely want a May-waking-the-new-couple-up-because-they're-late-to-Tai-Chi scene!
> 
> Thanks for reading. Kudos and comments are so appreciated. <3 <3 <3


End file.
